


FM Karakura

by CrunchySalad



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchySalad/pseuds/CrunchySalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuhei is the host of a popular radio talk show, Renji is his sidekick, and Ichigo is his producer. Over the course of a day at work, all their love lives manage to come apart and fall back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FM Karakura

Ichigo had it planned out in his head. He considered himself a rational man, at least for the most part, and had thought about it for long enough. That wasn't to say he still wasn't nervous about it. But, nerves or not, he realized he would have to do something if he wanted anything to ever actually happen. At any rate, what could go wrong? In the worse case scenario, he would laugh it off as a joke.

He swallowed and stared at the door in front of him. It was so innocuous. Just a sheet of badly painted wood. Ichigo ran his fingers over to surface, traced the pattern of grain. He took a deep breath. And then he knocked on the door.

When it opened, his breath caught in his throat. Blue eyes. Blue hair. And features whose every inch he had memorized long ago.

"Hey." And Grimmjow. Just Grimmjow. "What are you doing here?"

"Just on my way to work," Ichigo said, voice calm and measured despite his racing heart. "And I just wanted to let you know, before you heard it through rumors. Rukia and I broke up."

"Oh." Grimmjow frowned in genuine sympathy. "Sorry about that."

Ichigo shook his head. "It's fine. It was a mutual decision. The truth is, we haven't really been happy for a long time now."

"Yeah? Then why'd you stay together for so long?"

And just like that, an opening. A chance to say what Ichigo had always wanted to say. "Because-"

"Ichigo? Is that Ichigo's voice?"

Ichigo froze at the new voice. Coming from behind Grimmjow, it was a feminine, familiar tone. Sure enough, the door opened a little bit more to reveal Nel standing there, dressed in nothing but Grimmjow's t-shirt and a large smile on her face. Ichigo felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Hey, Ichigo! Do you want to come in for breakfast?"

Nel was asking him something, but it was all a blur to Ichigo. Nel was there. In Grimmjow's t-shirt. Somehow Ichigo managed to open his mouth, to get some words out.

"I thought. . . I thought you two had broken up."

He was only vaguely aware of Nel's explanation; her beaming face told him everything he needed to know. They had gotten back together. His stomach was turning, and he was sure that the contents of it were going to come back up. Without even excusing himself he turned to go, clumsy steps leading him down the staircase and to the street. There were worried voices behind him, but he ignored them. He was half a block away when a strong hand wrapped around his arm and spun him backwards. A world he hadn't even realized had gone blurry was coming back into focus again, and in the very middle of it was Grimmjow.

"Ichigo." Grimmjow's other hand wrapped around his other arm. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Ichigo gave his arms a shake, throwing Grimmjow's hands off of them. What was even the point. . . Grimmjow and Nel were never going to break up.

"You asked me why I stayed with Rukia for so long." Ichigo scowled even as he felt his mouth go dry. He glared upwards, defiant. "It's because I couldn't be with you."

Grimmjow's shocked expression was all the answer Ichigo needed. He turned and started to walk quickly away, not at all surprised when Grimmjow didn't run after him.

* * *

Shuhei stood in front of the heavy door of FM Karakura, Karakura Town's only private radio station. He balanced a heavy, filled-to-overflowing box in his hands and a newspaper in his mouth, and he wondered how the hell he was going to get in. Eventually he tried pushing his calf against the wall so he could balance the box on his thigh and attempted to reach the door knob with four fingers on one of his hands. He managed to get the door open only to see the box fall over and all the fruit inside spill out onto the floor.

"Crap," he spit out, never one to use heavy curse words, despite what his rock and roller appearance might suggest. He bent down and started to pile all the fruits into the box again, then walked down the hallway to a familiar office. This time he just put the box and newspaper down, opened the door, and picked them back up again before walking through. He put the box down on his desk and looked towards the other two desks in the room. Renji wasn't there yet but Ichigo was, head down on his desk with his arms around his head.

"What's wrong?" Shuhei asked. "Hungover?"

"I just lost my best friend," Ichigo murmured, voice muffled into the wood.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

It was almost an instinctual question. A byproduct of his occupation as a talk show host who dispensed advice to his callers. Still, it was strange taking on that role with Ichigo, instead of some anonymous voice over the telephone waves. Ichigo and he weren't friends, after all, though they were on good terms. It was only Renji and this talk show itself that connected them. He flicked on his computer as he waited for Ichigo to start talking, if the somewhat taciturn man felt inclined to do so. It took a few minutes, but eventually Ichigo decided to spill, his voice a low mumble that Shuhei had to strain to hear.

"Just this guy I grew up with. He broke up with his girlfriend recently and I decided to confess to him. Got there this morning and found out they were back together. I confessed anyway."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. He was so shocked he couldn't even say anything."

"Uh huh." Shuhei logged in to his e-mail, pulled up an internet browser. "If you've known him so long, why didn't you tell him earlier?"

"I haven't had the chance. He's been dating this girl since we were thirteen; the day I figured out that I liked him was the day he introduced me to her."

"How horrible," Shuhei said, putting sympathy into his voice as he scrolled through his new e-mails for anything important. "And how does that make you feel?"

Silence. After awhile Shuhei looked up to see Ichigo scowling at him. It wasn't all that unusual, considering that seemed to be Ichigo's default expression. But it irked all the same.

"Are you even really listening?" Ichigo asked. "Or are you just doing your generic radio relationship advice thing?"

Shuhei frowned, but he had to admit that Ichigo had a point. He leaned back in his chair, turning to give Ichigo his full attention.

"Sorry," he said. "Force of habit."

Before they could continue, though, the door to their small office opened and Renji came in. He was shuffling more than walking, back hunched over and shoulders slumped. His hair, usually so pert and spiky, hung in a messy low ponytail down his back. A large frown was plastered over his lips. He shuffled to his desk, completely oblivious to the way Ichigo and Shuhei were staring at him. He plopped himself down in his chair, and just. . . sat. Sat and stared at his computer screen. 

"Renji," Shuhei started, slow and cautious, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," Renji spit out, voice cracking just that little bit. "I'm perfectly fine."

Shuhei blinked. What the hell was going on today? For his part, Ichigo pulled his arms away from his desk and let them fall downward to hang in the air as he pressed his cheek down on the surface. Facing away from them. Shuhei sighed.

"Look, guys. It's obvious that you both have stuff going on, but we have a show to put together. Ichigo, what's today's theme?"

"First impressions."

"Okay," Shuhei said, turning on his computer. "Let's do some research."

'Research' consisted of looking for interesting stories and information on the topic of the day. Sometimes they got to it during the show, sometimes they didn't, depending on the quantity and quality of phone calls they received. But it prevented any dead air and let them steer the conversation in more interesting ways. Shuhei started to run searches on dealing with your significant other's family for the first time. While doing so, he was well aware of the fact that Ichigo and Renji weren't moving. Ichigo was still staring at the wall, while Renji was still staring at his blank computer screen.

"Hey," Shuhei said, trying to brighten the mood a little bit. "Do you two want some fruit? I've got a ton of apples and pears."

"Just because the guy selling it to you is hot," Renji mumbled, "doesn't mean you have to buy so much of it."

Shuhei frowned and turned back to his computer screen.

"He's not just hot," he muttered underneath his breath. "He's a great guy, too."

Shuhei went back to his work. It wouldn't be the first time that he had done research enough for all three of them; sometimes he thought that he was the only one who cared about getting out a great product every night.

"I'm taking my cigarette break," Renji said, after about half an hour of doing nothing.

Shuhei watched as Renji quickly made his way through the room. "But you don't smoke."

The door swung shut behind Renji. Shuhei looked over at Ichigo, but the man was still, apparently, busy feeling sorry for himself. He guessed that he would have to go and try to talk to Renji about whatever was going on. He got up and left the room. Looking out the window, he didn't see Renji at the front of the building, which gave him a good idea of where Renji would be. He made his way past other offices, past the studio, and to the doorway leading up to the rooftop. One narrow staircase later he was pushing a door open and stepping into fresh air and a crisp Fall breeze. Renji was sitting on the concrete ground near the edge, looking out past the chain-link fence that kept the rooftop enclosed. Shuhei walked up and sat down next to him.

"Hey," he said. "What's wrong?"

Renji looked awful. Sunken eyes, pale skin. Like he had been drinking the night before. A half-empty bottle of water was clutched in his hands and strands of red hair fluttered limply around his face.

"What part of me," Renji said, voice soft and hollow, "is good enough for Byakuya?"

"Christ, Renji." Shuhei shifted beside him, uncomfortable to be talking about Byakuya. He had a feeling Renji's bad mood was because of his boyfriend. In Shuhei's opinion, it was Byakuya who wasn't good enough for Renji; at least Renji acted like he cared about their relationship. "You're a great guy. You're good at your job and always come through for your friends."

"I'm a loser who never went to college-"

"You didn't have the money."

"-who works at a local radio station as a sidekick-"

"On the most popular talk show in town."

"-and makes less in a year than he does in a day."

"Money isn't everything."

But Renji was shaking his head, staring off into the distance, past the ugly radio tower that obstructed their view. "I'm nothing. Compared to him, I'm nothing."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Shuhei said. "Ever since we met, you've had a tendency to let your insecurities get to you. But you're just as good as he is, Renji, you're just different. What happened to bring this on, anyway?"

"Apparently last weekend his parents threw some family shindig," Renji explained. "Just some extended family members, not anything too formal. Rukia invited Ichigo and Byakuya didn't even mention it to me. All this time we've been dating, and you know I've never even met his parents? So Ichigo tells me about it and I convince myself that Byakuya had a good explanation for not inviting me, and last night I finally work up the guts to ask him. And you know what he said to me? He said, 'I see no reason why I should invite you to a family event.' No reason. Two years of dating and he sees no reason to introduce me to his family."

"What did you do after he said that?"

"I didn't know what to do, so I left. Got drunk and passed out at Ikkaku's bar; he was nice enough to drag me upstairs and put a blanket over me."

Shuhei sighed. "And what about now? What are you going to do now?"

"Hell if I know," Renji said, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more subdued. "You know. . . when I asked him out, I never expected for him to say yes. But he did, and I thought everything was going to be so great. I thought we'd actually be a couple. But it feels like. . . like we're living separate lives out side by side, instead of sharing one life together. I still don't know him. Not the way I want to."

Renji had to stop to take a breath. His eyes closed as his voice became a barely audible whisper. "The more time I spend with him, the farther away I feel. It's just. . . there's no future for us, is there?"

Not knowing what else to do, Shuhei placed a hand on Renji's shoulder and squeezed. At the very least, the small gesture of physical comfort brought an upward tick to Renji's lips. A smile. Maybe a self-pitying one, but a smile nonetheless.

"I guess I should stop deluding myself and just break it off."

"You should do whatever you think is best," Shuhei said. "You should do what you think will make you happier in the long run."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." Renji took a deep breath. "I just have to figure out what that is."

"Let's go back downstairs and get some work done, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

They walked downstairs and back to the office, where Shuhei was happy to see that Ichigo was on his computer instead of moping around. He still looked vaguely depressed, but at least he was being productive. He looked up as they entered the room, question in his eyes.

'Byakuya,' Shuhei mouthed, and Ichigo nodded his head in understanding.

The three settled back into work, the office a little more quiet than usual as they did so. They didn't stop working until their lunch break at noon, but by that time they were more prepared than they usually were. They were pretty much set until two, and Shuhei turned to the others with a sense of accomplishment.

"Long lunch break?" he asked. "I could take the time to run a few errands."

"Sure," Ichigo said. "But I don't really feel like doing much."

"Yeah, I don't feel like going out," Renji said.

Shuhei gave a frustrated sigh. "Fine. You guys do what you want. I'm going to go get some stuff done. See you a little before two for the promo?"

"Sounds good," Ichigo said, before turning to Renji. "Chinese delivery? We can eat in the hot glue room."

"Yeah. Sure. The usual thing from the usual place?"

Ichigo nodded as he got out his cell phone, scrolling through his contacts until he got to the words Buddha Express. He had just finished putting in the order when his phone rang. He looked at the screen. . . Grimmjow. Ichigo felt a wave of nausea at the memory of what had happened that morning. He had been an idiot to say anything, and now things were going to be strange and awkward between them.

Ichigo stared at his phone, realizing that Grimmjow must be taking his lunch now as well. Ichigo could just imagine him, standing outside his office building in a pretty standard gray suit. . . something Ichigo had seen him dressed in time and time again but never ceased to amuse him. Grimmjow always looked so entirely uncomfortable in a suit. And Ichigo had never thought that in a million years Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, who had been the resident troublemaker in their middle and high schools, would end up as an average salariman. Ichigo remembered how often Grimmjow would get into fights, and how the school had even resorted to asking Ichigo to lecture Grimmjow about it. And now he was actually a productive member of society.

Ichigo let the phone ring out and turn into a missed call. A few moments later, however, he received a text message, two words flashed across the screen: _Call me_. But he wasn't going to call back Grimmjow. He didn't know what he was supposed to say.

Ten minutes later Ichigo and Renji had their Chinese food and were sitting at a small table in the hot glue room, formerly known as the break room. The name change had come about several years ago, before the three of them even had this show, when someone had left a hot glue gun on the counter. Someone else had started hot glueing random things all over the walls and floor, a tradition that just kept growing over the years. So now the walls were completely plastered with random items: doll heads, broken bottles, vinyl records. Not an inch of bare space was to be seen. The floor wasn't much better, but at least people had stuck to two-dimensional objects like coins for the floor.

Ichigo and Renji sat with their white and red take-out cartons in front of them, but neither of them was really eating. They were more picking at their food, chopsticks nudging at wet noodles and dry rice.

"Hey, man," Reni said, "sorry about being so out of it this morning. You look like you're in a bad way too, and I haven't even asked you anything about it."

Ichigo shrugged. "It's fine. It's just that I finally let Grimmjow know how I feel."

Renji's eyes opened to comical proportion. "No way. What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything," Ichigo said, poking at a particularly mushy piece of chicken. "He's back with Nel."

"Wait. You told him you liked him and he got back together with Nel? That's kind of a dick move."

"No." Ichigo shook his head, a little bit disgusted with himself. "He got back together with Nel and then I told him."

"Wow." Renji munched thoughtfully on a piece of broccoli. "That sucks."

That was an understatement, Ichigo thought. "What about you? What happened with Byakuya?"

"Nothing," Renji said, eyes staring a hole into his take-out. "I just finally realized that things are never going to lead anywhere with Byakuya. It's a dead-end relationship."

Now it was Ichigo's turn to be shocked. "Don't tell me you're going to break it off with him. I mean, you've been obsessed with him for longer than I've known you."

"Yeah, well, maybe it's time for me to grow up and admit that it's just a silly obsession. I mean. . . what I am supposed to do? I love him, but I'm never going to be able to have the kind of relationship with him that I want. So do I stay with him and bear it, or do I break it off and live the rest of my life with a big 'what if' hanging over me?"

Ichigo couldn't help but snicker at that. "You sound like a caller asking for Shuhei's advice."

"Che." Renji chuckled a little at his predicament, though it was a rather sad little sound. "I know, man. What do you think Shuhei would say?"

Ichigo thought a little bit about Shuhei and his no-nonsense brand of advice. After all these years, it wasn't too hard to predict what he would say. "I think he'd say that no matter what you do, you're going to have 'what if's in your life. What if you had stayed with Byakuya? What if you had broken it off? And I think he would say that, no matter how much you love someone, if the relationship is making you miserable then it's not worth it. Byakuya may or may not change, but you can't delude yourself into thinking that you're going to be the one to change him. If you do stay with him, you'll just have to accept the way he is."

"Huh. That was pretty good." Renji sighed. He balanced his chopsticks on his take-out carton and pushed it away, giving up any pretense that he was actually going to eat. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I'll just have to think about it."

"Yeah." Ichigo was in a similar quandary, only he didn't think any amount of thinking would help him decide what to do about Grimmjow. After all, there was really no big decision to be made, not like the one Renji was grappling with.

"I think what we need," Renji said, "is a little distraction. You know the morning show guy? Ginjou, or whatever the fuck his name is?"

Ichigo nodded as he watched Renji make his way over to the pantry. He watched as Renji opened a specific pantry and started to take stuff out, until his arm was reaching deep into its darkest depths. Soon after Renji pulled out his arm, victorious. A bottle of vodka was attached to his hand.

"He told me about his secret stash," Renji said, grinning. "I'm sure he won't mind us partaking, as long as we replace it afterwards with some more good stuff."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? In the middle of work?"

Renji shrugged. "It's not like we're going to get shit-faced. Besides, we're usually pretty responsible when it comes to work. Wouldn't hurt to relax one day out of the year."

Ichigo still had his doubts, but he figured that if it was just a light buzz, it wouldn't hurt his work performance. "Yeah, fine. But we don't have shot glasses."

"These will do just fine."

Ichigo frowned as two of those oversized latte cups were placed in front of him and Renji started pouring vodka into them.

"Renji. . . "

"Don't worry about it, you don't have to drink it all. We deserve this, after the morning we've had."

Ichigo couldn't really argue with that. He reached for the cup and took a sip, cringing as the taste hit his tongue and burned down his throat. He had never been a huge fan of the taste of alcohol, and had mostly steered clear of it in college. He drank sake for social reasons, but that was pretty much it. Still, he didn't hate the buzz that alcohol gave him, that funny lightheaded feeling. But only when the buzz didn't turn into anything heavier and he found himself drunk. Being drunk was not something Ichigo particularly enjoyed.

Some time later, Ichigo found himself right on that precipice of buzzed and drunk. He was feeling pretty good about the world, especially compared to how he was feeling before he started drinking. Grimmjow was just a hot blip in the back of his mind and he wasn't feeling embarrassed at all over what had happened that morning. All was right in his fuzzy, warm world.

"Hey," he said, turning towards Renji. "How's Byakuya in bed?"

Renji was looking at him like he had just grown another head. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. I'm serious. I mean, he has such a huge stick up his ass, I don't see how a dick can fit up there with it."

Renji burst out laughing, spitting vodka all over the table.

"You know," he said, in between guffaws, "you're funny when you're drunk. But let's just say that it's always the quiet ones you have to look out for."

Ichigo scowled. "I'm not drunk. And what the hell does that mean, anyway? Does that mean he's into kinky stuff like tying you up and using horse-sized dildos?"

"Oh my God, Ichigo!" Renji flushed and shot looks around the room, as though Byakuya might have spontaneously appeared there. "No! I'm just saying he's not bad in bed. And he would kill me if he knew I was talking about him like this, so let's drop it, yeah?"

Ichigo scowled some more. "Fine. Just curious."

Mind in the gutter, Renji couldn't help when it supplied a few curious questions of its own. "What about Grimmjow? You think he's any good?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said, without even hesitating. "Hell yeah."

There was silence for awhile before Ichigo dropped a bombshell.

"You know. . . don't tell anyone this, but I've done stuff with Grimmjow and Nel."

"What?!" If life was a comic strip, the exclamation would have been entirely caps locked. Renji's eyes were bugging out so much that he thought they might fall out of his head. "You? You had a threesome?"

"Why are you so shocked?" Ichigo asked, a little insulted by Renji's disbelief.

"Okay. No offense, Ichigo, but you come across as kind of a prude when it comes to sex. And according to Rukia-"

"Wait. Rukia talks about our sex life with you?" Ichigo's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Umm. . . never mind about that. Tell me what happened between you and Grimmjow."

"Oh." Ichigo flushed, presumably embarrassed to remember it. "We just did it once, when we were kids. But I guess it really started when they first started dating. Before Nel started letting him fuck her. We used to take buses and trains everywhere together, and sometimes while we were riding them Grimmjow would finger Nel under her skirt. And sometimes he'd let me finger her too."

"Wait. What?" It was a lot for Renji to wrap his mind around, Ichigo fingering his best friend's girl on public transportation

Ichigo's flush deepened even more. "I didn't want to do it, not really. I mean. . . well, I was curious, so maybe I did want to a little. I don't know if Grimmjow got off on it or if he felt sorry for me 'cause I didn't have a girl or what, but it's just something we did. And then, one time after they started fucking, they were in my room when they got in the mood. So Grimmjow had me join in."

"How exactly did that work?" Renji asked. He took a sip from his latte cup as he imagined different positions. "One dick in her pussy and one in her ass?"

Ichigo shook his head. "Nel wasn't doing anal at that point. We tag-teamed her for awhile, and then we saw if we could both fit in her pussy at once."

"Fuck."

"And you know. . . it was amazing, the feeling of Grimmjow's cock pressed against mine. And I could feel it when he came, could feel his cum shoot out onto my cock. I still jerk off remembering it."

"Fuck, Ichigo. That's so sick. And kind of hot. My dick's hard right now."

Ichigo's only answer was a snicker.

"Okay, okay," Renji said. "You told me something, so I'll tell you something too. As long as it doesn't leave this room. So. . . Byakuya likes it when I wear short skirts and women's underwear when he fucks me."

Ichigo cringed. "No offense, Renji, but you don't really have the legs to pull off short skirts."

"Oh, shut up," Renji said, cracking up. He chugged the rest of his cup and poured some more, eyes flitting over the handsome planes of Ichigo's face. "Hey. Did you ever think that we might end up together? Considering things aren't working out for us with Byakuya and Grimmjow?"

Ichigo looked up, and they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Before both of them collapsed on the table laughing.

"Dude," Ichigo said. "That would be so weird."

"Yeah," Renji agreed. "Definitely."

* * *

Shuhei hummed as he made his way back inside the radio station, large headphones blasting his latest favorite new rock band in his ears. He had gotten a lot done over his long lunch. He had managed to hit the bank and the post office, despite the ridiculously long lines at both. And now he was back at the station and ready for the two o'clock promo. It was a good feeling. . . until he got to the office to find it empty. An empty feeling settled at the bottom of his stomach. As he was looking around someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Shuhei? Are you okay?"

Shuhei turned to see Kira, the general manager of the station. Kira was holding on to his usual clipboard and seemed as on edge as ever. Shuhei imagined that it was difficult running a radio station, especially one where the owner didn't show up half the time.

"Yeah," Shuhei said. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Kira tapped his clipboard and looked Shuhei over. It was clear he didn't exactly believe him, but he must have concluded that it wasn't too big of a deal. "You're in the hot seat in seven minutes, so be at the studio in five."

"Sure," Shuhei said, as Kira walked down the hallway.

As soon as Kira turned the corner Shuhei turned towards the other direction, sprinting to the hot glue room. He opened the door to find. . . Ichigo and Renji. Passed out on the table. With permanent marker mustaches and fuzzy eyebrows drawn on their faces.

"Ichigo! Renji!" He couldn't believe this. What the hell did those two think they were doing?

Ichigo's head snapped up instantly, eyes wide open.

"I'm up, I'm up! What's going on?"

Shuhei's eyes caught sight of the empty vodka bottle on the table, and he narrowed his eyes at Ichigo. "Have you been drinking on the job?"

"No. I mean, yes. But I'm sober now, I was only a little drunk anyway. Is it two?"

"Yes!"

Ichigo got up and pulled Renji up by the back of his shirt. The redhead blinked open bleary eyes. Well. . . at least they were opening, Shuhei thought.

"What?" Renji slurred.

"Two o'clock promo," Ichigo said, pulling Renji to his feet.

"Okay, okay."

Shuhei and Ichigo set off towards the studio, Renji trailing behind them. They had turned the corner and gotten a few feet when there was a definite resounding crash behind them, followed by giggling.

"Crap," Shuhei said. "He's still drunk."

"Chill out, Shuhei, I've got him."

Ichigo went back and pulled Renji to his feet, then kept an arm around his back to make sure Renji stayed upright and walking. But it wasn't as easy as chilling out for Shuhei. Out of all the messed up things Renji had ever done, this was the worse. Shuhei couldn't believe that he would put their show on the line because of Kuchiki Byakuya. Their show, which they had spent years of long hours developing. One drunken incident was all it took to get them cancelled, and then all three of them would be jobless.

Shuhei shook his head as he stepped outside the studio. The previous deejay was still in there, but it looked like she was cutting to commercials. Kira waved them in and Shuhei went to sit in the hot seat. He put on his headphones and made sure the mic was working, noticing that Ichigo was doing the same for Renji. Then Ichigo was taking a seat in the producer's booth and making sure everything was set up correctly.

"You stink of vodka," Shuhei hissed at Renji.

Renji grinned. "Actually, vodka doesn't have much of a smell. That's why it was so popular among European women back when they weren't allowed to drink."

"Shut up, Renji," Shuhei said, Renji's dubious trivia making him a little bit angrier. "I can't believe you would jeopardize our show like this. Our show. The one we spent the last five years of our lives slaving ov-."

"On air," Ichigo interrupted, "in five. . . four. . ."

Three fingers, then two, then he was pointing towards Shuhei.

"Good afternoon, Karakura!" Shuhei said into his microphone, voice as cheerful as he could make it. "It's two o'clock, which means it's time for a preview of today's. . ."

Ichigo hit a button, and a sound byte played of a classroom of children shouting, "Please teach me, Shuhei-sensei!"

And then it was back to Shuhei. "Today's theme is first impressions. We all worry about them, whether we're meeting a new date or the future in-laws. And to give you a taste of today's show, we have for you: the top five tips for making a good impression. Number five on the list: dress well. It might seem superficial, but when you look sloppy, it sends the message that you don't care about the person you're meeting."

"And what if you don't care?" Renji asked. "Does that mean you don't have to dress up?"

Shuhei glared at Renji but decided to ignore him.

"Number four," Shuhei continued. "Confidence is key. There's nothing people respond to better than self-esteem."

"Oh, I don't know," Renji said. "I think there's a lot of things people respond to better. Money and good looks, for two."

Shuhei sent Renji another glare, but all the expression did was make the other man laugh. What the hell. . . this wasn't comedy hour, and Renji's job wasn't to cut him down every chance he got. They put on a respectable advice show.

"Tip number three," Shuhei said. "Make positive small talk."

"As opposed to negative small talk?"

"Tip number two: avoid the big two controversial topics when you're just starting to get to know someone: religion and politics."

"Yeah. God forbid you start dating someone with different opinions than you."

Shuhei shot an irritated look at Ichigo, but Ichigo only shrugged. He wasn't in control of Renji's mouth, after all.

"And tip number one," Shuhei said. "Be yourself."

"That totally doesn't work," Renji said, "if you're a huge douchebag."

"Like you're being right now?" Shuhei asked. He couldn't help himself, but as soon as he said it he couldn't believe he had done so. His eyes widened as he looked over at Ichigo. Ichigo also looked shocked, considering the fact that Shuhei was failingly polite, if a little disgruntled-looking, most of the time.

"Hey," Renji said, chuckling a little bit, "at least I don't spend half my salary on food I don't even eat just because I've got a hard-on for the guy selling it to me."

Shuhei flushed as his vision went red. Who the fuck was Renji to say that on live radio? When Kensei could be listening to them right now? Beyond mortified, Shuhei struck back in the first way that came to mind. "Better to have a harmless crush then to be in a relationship that makes me miserable. When are you going to break up with your asshole of a boyfriend, Renji? Because it's clear to everyone but you that he doesn't give two shits about you."

Shuhei would have gone on, but Renji was quickly paling. Recognizing that look, Shuhei made a dash to a trash can, which he quickly shoved underneath Renji just in time for the redhead to vomit.

"Crap, Renji."

Shuhei looked up at the red lights on the wall and saw that they weren't on air anymore. He turned to Ichigo, who had his face buried in his hands.

"Did you cut to commercial early?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ichigo mumbled. "But not early enough."

The door opened and the next deejay came in, though she seemed unable to meet their eyes. Kira's head popped through the open door frame.

"I want to see you three in the conference room," he said, before disappearing again.

Shuhei let out a resigned sigh. At least they had had a good run.

"Come on," he said, lifting Renji up under the arms and dragging him out of the studio.

Ichigo followed. All three of them made it to the conference room, where Kira was already sitting. He was on his cell phone, presumably talking with the owner of the station. Shuhei tried to deposit Renji in a chair, but when he couldn't stay upright in one, Shuhei and Ichigo just went ahead and lifted him onto the conference room table. Where he promptly passed out.

"He's okay, right?" Shuhei asked, a little worried despite what Renji had just said on air.

"Yeah," Ichigo replied. "Just let him sleep it off."

Kira got off the phone and, excruciatingly slow, turned towards them.

"Well," he said, fingers tenting together in front of him. "Gin's not mad."

"Then why do you look so pale?" Shuhei asked.

"Because even if he says that, you never know what's going on in his head." Kira shook his head as he looked over Renji's unconscious body. "I can't believe you guys would do this to the station."

"I'll make a formal apology, of course," Shuhei said. "As will Renji."

"Of course," Ichigo agreed.

"You should do that," Kira said. "To Gin and to our listeners. Gin says we'll see how today's show goes. . . see how the listener response is. Hopefully no one was listening and this will just blow over. Five o'clock, guys. Make it a good show. Hopefully it won't be your last one."

"Yeah," Shuhei said. "Thanks, Kira."

"What should we do with him?" Ichigo asked, nodding at the now snoring Renji.

"Just leave him here, I guess," Kira replied. "But maybe check up on him every now and then?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said. "That's a good call."

Ichigo followed Shuhei back to their office. Shuhei was walking in front of him, back tense and shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, Shuhei," Ichigo said, knowing how much the radio show meant to Shuhei. "We didn't mean to drink so much."

"It's fine," Shuhei replied. "I mean. . . it isn't fine, but I forgive you. It's already done, so there's no point in holding a grudge about it now. We just have to put on a good show and hope Gin doesn't fire us afterward."

"Yeah. Okay."

Shuhei opened the door to their office, but froze in the doorway. Ichigo almost crashed into him before stopping himself. As it was, Ichigo peered over Shuhei's shoulder to see what had stopped him in his tracks. Only to freeze himself.

"Ichigo," said the man sitting at Ichigo's desk. A man clad in a completely standard gray suit.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo greeted, even as he was unable to look at Grimmjow's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I tried calling you a million times over lunch, but you didn't pick up your phone. So I took the afternoon off. Figured that if I ambushed you in your office, there'd be less of a chance of you avoiding me."

"I'm busy, Grimmjow," Ichigo said, feeling as though it was his turn to throw up now.

"Liar. I know you never have much going on between your promo and your show."

"I. . . I have to go take a really big shit." Ichigo flushed at the embarrassing excuse, but he really couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Cut the crap, Ichigo."

Shuhei coughed, and Ichigo realized that all this time Shuhei had been standing between them.

"Do you guys want me to leave?" Shuhei asked.

"No," Ichigo said. "Grimmjow's just leaving."

"Like hell I am," Grimmjow said, his voice almost a growl. When he spoke again, though, he used a more normal tone. "I don't mind moving locations though. Is there a more private place to talk?"

"The old studio," Shuhei replied. "No one really goes in there at this hour."

Grimmjow nodded and stood up, making his way towards the door. Towards Ichigo. He stopped when he was about a foot away. Close enough for Ichigo to feel his body heat, close enough for Ichigo to see the subtle blue on blue pattern on his tie.

"Lead the way," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo imagined that he could feel the warm breath on his ear.

With no real choice, Ichigo started to walk to the old studio. He was all too aware of Grimmjow's presence behind him, but didn't dare say anything. He didn't particularly want to listen to what Grimmjow was about to tell him. He imagined different scenarios in his head.

 _I'm sorry, Ichigo, but I think we should spend some time apart. Just until this awkwardness goes away. Just until we can forget all of this._

 _I'm sorry, Ichigo, but I just can't stay friends with you anymore. It's too uncomfortable._

 _I'm sorry, Ichigo. I love Nel. We're getting married, and I hope you'll put aside your feelings and be my best man._

That last scenario had been a nightmare of his for years. Ever since he saw Nel glance at a wedding magazine while they were standing in line at the grocery store together.

Ichigo opened the door to the old studio, let Grimmjow in, and shut the door behind him. The old studio was now part studio, part storage closet. Large cardboard boxes filled up half the room, full of vinyl records from bygone eras. Plenty of the deejays and staff enjoyed coming here to listen to the old records; Ichigo himself had spent hours rummaging through the old boxes looking for rare and forgotten gems.

Grimmjow stepped up to the boxes, picked a record out at random. Blew the dust off of it. His back was facing Ichigo, and Ichigo noticed how cool he looked, despite the tenseness that came from being in a suit. Grimmjow always had this air around him, like he could walk through water and come out dry.

"Yosuke Yamashita*?" Grimmjow asked, the name obviously meaning nothing to him.

"One of the greats," Ichigo replied.

"This equipment work?"

"Yeah."

Grimmjow took a few steps towards the machinery. Slow, deliberate, smooth. Ichigo didn't mind that he wasn't cutting to the chase; it gave his heart time to prepare for whatever Grimmjow was going to say next to him. He leaned against the wall as Grimmjow put the record on the turntable. Took note of the way Grimmjow had one hand in his pocket, one hand on the needle.

Music came over the old speakers, filtered and cracking just a bit. As smooth and slow as Grimmjow's movements. Yamashita's version of Soul Eyes.

"Do you know," Grimmjow said, still not turning to face Ichigo, "why I stayed with Nel for so long?"

Ichigo's body felt as cold as ice. A million thoughts raced through his head and he couldn't make sense of any one of them. Why Grimmjow had stayed with Nel for so long. . . it couldn't possibly be. . .

"It's because I thought I couldn't be with you."

Ichigo's heart jumped into his throat, and Ichigo was sure it was lodged there to stay. Grimmjow was turning towards him, finally, those piercing blue eyes locked onto his own brown. Five steps were all it took before Grimmjow's hands were on either side of his face, before mere inches separated them.

"I broke up with Nel," Grimmjow continued. "For good this time. I broke up with her right after you left."

"Okay," Ichigo said. Then he fisted his hands in the front of Grimmjow's jacket and jerked him forward until their lips smashed together.

All those years of pent up lust and affection and he was finally kissing him, he was finally kissing Grimmjow. He felt like fireworks should be exploding somewhere behind them, but he guessed he could settle for a Coltrane tune piped out through dying speakers. The important part was Grimmjow was kissing him back. Grimmjow, whose mouth was so hot and wet and delicious, was kissing him back. Ichigo had wanted this for so long that he could cry.

They were both pulling, both pressing as close as they could to one another. Forehead to forehead. Chest to chest. Cock to cock. Ichigo could feel Grimmjow's hardness press against his own through the fabric of their clothing, and it only served to make him stiffer.

"Grimmjow," he said, breaking the kiss only to murmur Grimmjow's name against his lips.

"I know," Grimmjow whispered back.

The statement was punctuated by a upward thrust of Grimmjow's hips, a thrust that brought a gasp to Ichigo's lips. Grimmjow moved backward, just enough to fumble at Ichigo's zipper. Ichigo took the hint and reached for Grimmjow's zipper as well. They pushed their lips together again, kissing as they pulled each other's cocks out of their pants.

It was almost surreal to have Grimmjow's cock in his hand like this, hot and pulsing against his palm. Ichigo wouldn't have believed it if it didn't feel so real. But it felt so good, stroking Grimmjow like this, being the source of all of Grimmjow's little grunts and little gasps of breath, as Grimjow stroked him back. And all the while Grimmjow's tongue was shoved down his throat, exploring every nook and cranny it could find. Their fingers tangled together, moved back, and then Grimmjow was just thrusting against him, their bare cocks meeting with delicious friction each time.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo murmured, breaking their kissing once again, "I really want to fuck you right now."

"Unless you have some kind of lube in your pocket," Grimmjow replied, "that's gonna have to wait until you get off work tonight."

The promise sent a shiver down Ichigo's spine. But, really, this was enough. It was more than he ever expected, to have Grimmjow rubbing up against him like this. He moved back, backside hitting the wall behind him, and Grimmjow moved forward. Grimjow moved against him, rutting like an animal, pressing their cocks together time and time again. It felt so good, and really the thought that he was even doing this with Grimmjow was almost enough to make Ichigo come.

"Grimmjow," he moaned, "I'm going to come soon."

"Me too, Ichigo, me too."

Ichigo's hands came up around Grimmjow's back, tangling in the back of his jacket. Pulling him forward, so they were pressed as closely together as physics would allow. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and focused on the feeling of Grimmjow's cock moving against his. He was so close. . . he could feel it. . . and just like that, his mouth opened and his forehead scrunched up as his cock started to shoot. Semen squirted all over both their cocks, and soon after Grimmjow was adding to it, grunting his own release.

Afterwards they stayed there, unmoving, as their cocks went limp and their breathing calmed down. Eventually Grimmjow pulled away to see that the mess they had made had, somehow, localized itself pretty completely on the front of his jacket.

"Sorry," Ichigo said, flushing as he took in the sight of their combined semen.

"It's fine," Grimmjow said. "I can always take it off."

He did just that, removing the jacket and folding it over his arm. He looked over at Ichigo and smiled. A tiny lopsided grin that made Ichigo a little bit more lightheaded than he already was.

"Come by my place after you get off work," Grimmjow said. "I'll cook us some dinner."

"Okay," Ichigo replied, knowing that he couldn't say no even if he wanted to.

* * *

Renji blinked open sleep-encrusted eyes. His head felt like it had just been clamped in a vice. His tongue felt moldy. And his whole body was sore. A small thud sounded from his side, and he looked over to see a glass of water. Exactly what he needed. He grabbed it and started chugging, downing the whole glass in a matter of seconds. Then he put it down and focused on the figure who had presumably placed the glass on the table. . . Shuhei?

"Shuhei?" Renji asked. "What's going on?"

Shuhei was frowning as he checked his Blackberry, not really looking at Renji. "You got drunk during your lunch break, made an ass of yourself at the two o'clock promo, threw up, and passed out."

Renji groaned. "I'm such an idiot."

"Yeah," Shuhei agreed. "You are."

A few ticks of the clock, and then. . .

"By the way," Shuhei continued. "Sorry for what I said to you on air."

A feeling of dread filled Renji's body. "What did you say?"

"I said that Byakuya was an asshole that didn't give a shit about you," Shuhei admitted. "But the truth is I don't know how he feels about you. I just don't like the way he treats you, Renji."

"You don't need to apologize," Renji said. "I probably deserved the call out, if you got mad enough to say it on air. What did I do?"

"Well, you were just kind of an ass. And you told all our listeners about my huge crush on Kensei." Shuhei sighed. "You know he listens to this station. He leaves it on the speakers at his grocery store. I don't think I can face him after this. . . guess I'll just have to go to a different organic market from now on."

"Sorry," Renji said.

Shuhei shrugged in an offhanded way, but there was a decidedly downcast glaze to his eyes. "Maybe it's fine. I mean, I go in there day after day, like some obsessed stalker. And I can't even work up the guts to ask him out."

"I'll make it up to you," Renji said. "I don't know how, but I will."

"Don't worry about it," Shuhei said, sounding absolutely depressed.

Renji felt awful. On so many levels. His phone rang, and it was like a jackhammer in his brain. And then he recognized the ringtone and his eyes widened.

"Byakuya," he said.

Shuhei finally looked up. "I'll go so you can take the call."

Renji flipped open his phone just as Shuhei left. "Byakuya?"

"Renji." It was Byakuya's voice, muffled and filtered like he was a million miles away. His tone was the same as ever, as clipped and emotionless as it was the first day they met. "I listened to your two o'clock promotion. Is there something you should be telling me?"

Renji took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that his whole stomach seemed to be trying to throw itself up out of his body. "Yeah. It's just. . . Byakuya, I think it's better for the both of us if we just break up."

"I see. If that's what you feel is best, then so be it. I'll be working late at the office tonight, so feel free to recover your things from my apartment while I'm gone."

And then a click as Byakuya hung up on him.

Renji let his phone fall from his fingers to clatter onto the table. He held his head in his hands, noticed that they were shaking. He had just broken up with Byakuya. . . he had just broken up with Byakuya, and Byakuya hadn't even given a shit. All his worse fears were confirmed, and he wondered what he had wasted the last two years of his life on.

Renji felt like shit. But still he got up and made his way to his office. The clock read four-thirty, which meant they had half an hour before their show, and he should at least freshen up a little so he didn't sound like a half-drunk, half-hung over loser on air. When he got there he was surprised to find Ichigo looking as chipper as Ichigo ever looked.

"What's up with you?" Renji asked. Last thing he remembered, Ichigo was as miserable as he was.

Ichigo glanced up at him before turning back to his computer screen. "Grimmjow broke up with Nel and he's dating me now."

"I hate you," Renji said, before dragging himself to his desk. "I hope you rot in hell."

"As long as Grimmjow's there too, I don't mind." But Ichigo looked up again, for longer this time. "Hey. Renji, are you okay?"

"Not really. I just broke up with Byakuya."

Shuhei's head snapped up at the comment, and Ichigo's mouth opened almost imperceptibly.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Renji continued. "If you guys don't mind."

"Of course not," Shuhei said, before turning back to his work.

Ichigo did the same, though he seemed just a little bit more reluctant about it. But Renji was done talking about things for today. Honestly, he just wanted to go home and go to sleep. He was so tired.

Somehow, Renji rallied until it was time to get back into the hot seat. It was easy enough to bring out his on air persona as he pulled those headphones on, and then Ichigo was giving them the signal to start.

"It's five o'clock," Shuhei said, "which means it's time for. . ."

"Please teach me, Shuhei-sensei!" the pre-recorded children sang.

"Giving you advice on your commute home," Shuhei continued. "First thing's first. . . for anyone who heard our two o'clock preview today, you'll know that we weren't behaving at our most professional level. We've reflected on our actions, and we deeply apologize for them. Isn't that right, Renji?"

"Yes," Renji agreed. "We're very sorry to any listeners out there who were offended."

"Now that that's cleared up," Shuhei went on to say, "let's get to today's daily topic: first impressions. If you have any interesting stories involving first impressions you've given people, or first impressions some one's given you, give us a call and tell us about it. And if you need any advice on making good first impressions, give us a call too. Renji, didn't you say that you had a first impression question?"

"Yeah," Renji replied, reading off his notes. "As we all know, when you're on a first date, the last thing you should bring up is an ex. What I want to know is, what other faux pas should I avoid?"

"That's a good question, Renji. One thing that always irritates: going too fast on a first date. Please don't talk about making plans for something a month away with someone you've really just met. It's an almost surefire way to scare them off. And a personal pet peeve of mine: asking something like, 'what's wrong with you that you're still single?' Please don't ever imply that there's something wrong with your date because she or he isn't in an exclusive relationship, especially since you're not in one either."

A light lit up on the switchboard, indicating that Ichigo had screened a call and had it on hold.

"Looks like we have our first caller," Shuhei said, flipping the switch. "You're on 'Please Teach Me, Shuhei-sensei.' What's your name?"

"Soifon," came a curt, feminine voice.

"And what's your question?"

"Yeah. Was Renji drunk during your preview? Because he sounded drunk."

Shuhei cut off the call and raised an eyebrow at Ichigo.

"Sorry," Ichigo mouthed. Then he scribbled out a note and held it up.

 _She said she had a question about meeting her girlfriend's family._

"To answer your question," Renji said, "no, I was not drunk. Just a little bit high."

Ichigo played an exaggerated laugh track to emphasize the fact that Renji had just made a joke.

"Obviously," Shuhei clarified, just in case, "Renji is kidding. He didn't do anything illegal; the only thing he did wrong was act unprofessionally. I hope that our listeners will forgive us for it and let us move on."

Another light.

"You're on 'Please Teach Me, Shuhei-sensei'," Shuhei said. "What's your name?"

"'Akira."

"And what's your question?"

"Actually, I have a story I think you'll enjoy."

"Go for it," Shuhei encouraged.

"So I was in college and had gotten into a fight with my girlfriend, so we were on a break. I go to a party with my friends, and there's a chick there who's just obviously wasted. We gang bang her and forget about it. I get back together with my girlfriend a few days later and she introduces my sister: and it's the girl we fucked from the party. She didn't remember anything, so her impression of me was pretty good. But I have to say that my first impression of her was even better."

Renji had an incredulous expression on his face, but it's not as though the listeners would see it. "I call bullshit."

"No, man," the caller insisted, "it's totally true."

"You're calling bullshit, Renji?" Shuhei asked.

"Hell yeah, sensei. I might have believed it if it was just anonymous sex instead of a gang bang, but even then this story sounds like a letter to penthouse instead of a real thing. Actually, I don't even know if I believe this guy's name is Akira."

"Let's let the listeners decide, then," Shuhei said. "Text in whether you think Akira's story is true or false, and at the end of the show we'll tell you what most people thought of him."

Shuhei clicked off that switch and clicked on another. "You're on 'Please Teach Me, Shuhei-sensei.' What's your name?"

"Muguruma Kensei."

Shuhei nearly fell off his chair. Ichigo blinked in confusion at Shuhei, but Renji had recognized the name, and was staring at Shuhei with his mouth open in the shape of an 'o'. As Shuhei wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants, he realized that they were accumulating quite a bit of dead air.

"Umm. . . yes. . . what. . . what's your question?"

"Is it okay if the question doesn't have to do with first impressions?" Kensei's voice was as stern and dry as usual, which meant it was difficult for Shuhei to get a read on what his intentions were.

"I'll. . . I'll make an exception this time," Shuhei said.

"There's a man that I'm interested in, and I think he might be interested me as well. At least, I heard his friend saying he liked someone who fits my description. The problem is there's a chance his friend might not have been talking about me. So, Shuhei-sensei, do you think I should just take the chance and ask this guy out?"

Kensei couldn't have been talking about Shuhei, could he? Was he talking about Renji's statements during their two o'clock promo? Shuhei's heart raced to think that Kensei was actually interested in him as well.

"Yes," Shuhei said, almost before Kensei had even done speaking. "You definitely should."

"That's good to hear," Kensei said. "I'll ask my assistant out as soon as he gets back to my store."

Shuhei's stomach dropped. When he spoke, he couldn't help the disappointment that hung from his every syllable. "Oh. I see. I'm glad I could help."

"I'm kidding," Kensei said, a teasing lilt to his voice that Shuhei had never heard before. "Shuhei, would you go to dinner with me on Friday night?"

A huge grin spread over Shuhei's face.

"I'd love to," Shuhei said. "Umm. . . I'll stop by the store on my way home and we can make plans?"

"I look forward to it."

Shuhei flipped the switch to cut Kensei off. Then he stared at said switch, that grin still on his face and a dazed look in his eyes. Renji waved his hand in front of Shuhei's face to get his attention back to the real world.

"Oh," Shuhei said, sounding absolutely giddy. "Sorry. What were we doing. . . taking calls? What's the next question?"

Renji sighed as he watched his friend attempt to get back to the show. Shuhei looked beside himself, and Renji was glad that things had worked out for him. But it still made him a little depressed to see Ichigo and Shuhei so happy when he was absolutely miserable. He guessed he'd just have to shut up about it and deal.

The rest of the show passed easily enough, and soon it was six o'clock. Kira peeked his head into the studio as Ichigo cut to commercial, a tiny smile where his usual frown was.

"Gin is extremely happy," Kira said. "He said the ratings for tonight were the highest yet, and there haven't been any complaints."

"So we're safe?" Shuhei asked.

"You're safe," Kira replied, before slipping back out.

The trio breathed a collective sigh of relief as they made their way out of the studio. So they didn't have to worry about being unemployed just yet after all. They headed back to the office, cleaned up, and got ready to leave. Renji was the first to go, waving bye to Ichigo and Shuhei as they were still getting their things together.

"See you tomorrow guys," he said.

"Bye, Renji," Ichigo replied, words laced with mild concern. "Stay safe, yeah?"

"You'll be alright," Shuhei declared, nodding as Renji left.

Renji nodded back. He made his way out of the studio, stepping back into the outside world. He breathed in the fresh air, watched as people made their way through the streets. And listened as the door slammed shut behind him. It was such a strange, depressing sound. It reminded him that he wasn't sure what to do now, or even where to go. Ikkaku's bar was always an option, but Renji thought he had done enough drinking in the last twenty-four hours. The thought of going back to his tiny, empty apartment made him physically ill. The thought of heading to Byakuya's apartment was equally depressing.

But, he figured, he'd have to get his stuff some time, and better to do it when he knew Byakuya wasn't going to be around. So he got on a bus and took it downtown, to Byakuya's hip, multi-million dollar loft.

"Hey, Shinji," he said to the security guard as he entered the building. "What's happening?"

Shinji didn't even look up from his crossword puzzle. "Nothing much, Abarai-san."

Renji got into the elevator and rode it to the top floor, then used his key to get into Byakuya's place. He guessed he would have to return it, though, and let the cool metal burn in his palm for a little bit. He went into Byakuya's closet and grabbed a duffel bag. . . he'd give it to Rukia to return to her brother later. He threw it on the bed and started to collect his belongings. A toothbrush. A t-shirt. Two boxer shorts. And a suit that Byakuya had bought him and that he had only worn once. He debated whether he should take that one or not, but he figured if he left it here Byakuya would just forget that he even had it. Even if Renji didn't want it, he could give it to charity or something.

And that was it. He was done. He looked down at the bag, sad and limp for the lack of things inside of it. His presence in Byakuya's life wasn't even enough to fill up half a duffel bag.

Feeling weary all of a sudden, Renji laid down on the bed to gather his strength. It smelled of Byakuya, and he realized he was laying on Byakuya's side of the bed. He turned, buried his nose in the pillow. It smelled like Byakuya's hair, freshly shampooed. Before he knew it Renji was falling asleep, Byakuya's scent floating all around him.

He woke up to the sound of keys scraping in the lock. Crap. Renji shot up as he realized Byakuya was home. Byakuya, who probably didn't want to see him. And to tell the truth, he didn't particularly want to see Byakuya either. It would just be too painful. But then Renji looked at the clock and realized that it was five in the morning. Had Byakuya been out all this time?

Byakuya's figure appeared at the bedroom door. Renji couldn't really make out the man's features in the dark, but he assumed Byakuya was shocked to see him there.

"Sorry," Renji mumbled, feeling beyond awkward. "I fell asleep without meaning to."

He grabbed his duffel bag and stood up, intent on getting out of Byakuya's hair as soon as possible. But he couldn't help but be curious. . .

"Are you just getting home right now?"

"I slept at the office," Byakuya replied. "I just came back to shower and change."

"Why'd you do that?" Renji asked.

"I don't believe that's any of your business anymore."

Renji nodded as his heart dropped. He supposed that it wasn't. He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and started to walk out, but paused in front of Byakuya in spite of himself. He didn't really want to go. He didn't want to take one more step away from Byakuya. But he had to, if he wanted to move on with his life.

"Byakuya," Renji said, his voice soft. "Thank you for the last two years."

"Even though they were so awful for you?"

There was a bitterness to the words that got Renji's attention. "What are you talking about?"

"That's what your friend said on the radio, wasn't it? That you were miserable in our relationship."

There was a surprising shakiness to Byakuya's voice. Something Renji had never heard before. It almost sounded like. . . "Byakuya, are you crying?"

Renji reached out, hand wrapping around Byakuya's arm. He wanted to pull Byakuya forward, to get a better look at his face. But Byakuya shook his hand off and turned around, facing the wall.

"The reason I slept in my office," Byakuya said, his voice softer than Renji had ever heard it before, "was because I could not bear to return to an empty apartment."

"But you were perfectly okay with us breaking up. You were fine with it."

"How else was I supposed to act?" Byakuya asked. His voice was even softer now, almost meek. "Renji. . . I don't want to make you miserable. But I don't know what I should do."

"Byakuya. . ."

"I didn't even know that you weren't happy."

Byakuya sounded so lost. Renji stepped forward, wrapped his arms around Byakuya's body. Buried his nose in Byakuya's hair.

"Byakuya. . . I'm so sorry. I should have said something. It's just. . . it's just, I love you so much. I just want to be a part of your life, and I feel like I'm not. Sometimes I feel like a stray whose presence you tolerate, like you wouldn't care if I came or went."

"That's not true, Renji. You're the most important part of my life."

"I never knew."

"How could you not?"

"You never told me."

Byakuya stilled, then turned around, until they were chest to chest. He looked up at Renji, and Renji could indeed see that his eyes were just a little red.

"Renji," he said. "I love you. I don't want you to leave me."

"I won't," Renji promised, holding Byakuya against him. "I'm not going anywhere."

They stayed there for awhile, just holding each other, before Byakuya pulled away.

"I should go take that shower."

"Yeah." Renji sat back down on the bed as he watched Byakuya walk to the bathroom, flip on the lights, and start to remove that expensive suit of his. He was glad that they were back to normal, but something still tugged at his mind. . . "Hey, Byakuya. What did you mean when you said you saw no reason to invite me to family events?"

"They're dreadfully boring affairs," Byakuya replied. "I saw no reason why you would want to go to one."

"Huh." Renji felt a little sheepish as he realized their break-up could have been avoided if he had just asked Byakuya to clarify. It seemed Byakuya wasn't the only one in their relationship with communication problems. "What if I said I wanted to meet your parents? Would you set it up?"

"Of course," Byakuya said, turning on the shower.

"Really?"

Byakuya looked back at Renji, a little incredulous. "Why would I not? Besides, it is high time that you met my parents. I have been waiting for you to express interest. . . but really, Renji, two years is a bit much."

Renji couldn't help but chuckle to himself as Byakuya disappeared into the shower. He was such an idiot. Though he guessed they both were.

**Author's Note:**

> * I kind of want to do a fic that takes place during the Allied occupation of Japan, focusing on the underground jazz scene. But I've got no plot for it, so I guess it's not going to happen anytime soon.
> 
>  
> 
> Loose chronology that you don't need to know, but in case you're interested:  
> Grimmjow and Ichigo grew up together.  
> Renji and Rukia grew up together.  
> Grimmjow met Nel in middle school.  
> Renji met Shuhei in high school.  
> Ichigo met Rukia in college.  
> Ichigo met Renji through Rukia and they became fast friends.  
> Shuhei and Renji thought up the radio show idea, and Renji asked Ichigo to be their producer.  
> Everyone is in their late twenties/early thirties in this fic.
> 
> I know in my mind how Renji falls for Byakuya in this world, but the story doesn't interest me enough for me to write a whole fic about it. But the facts are these: growing up, Renji didn't really notice Rukia's older brother. Byakuya was just a distant presence in their lives, always busy with his studies. Some time in Renji's late teens/early twenties, Rukia asks him to do a job for Byakuya fixing up a classic car that Byakuya was given. Throughout the job Renji finds himself falling for Byakuya. Byakuya feels the same, but because he's Byakuya, it's not clearly discernible. Years later they finally start dating.


End file.
